There really wasn’t much to do. Malcolm had another year of high school, then after?
It didn’t matter. He knew his clone-mom would take care of him if he wanted. He could live with her indefinitely.
And if he didn’t want that life, if years of stagnation drove him to anguish, he could always jump into one of the fungal pits.
Lori returned home from school, and though she was extremely warm to him, she never spent quality one-on-one time with him. He’d invite her to take walks knowing she hadn’t smoked in a while, but she’d simply brush him off with a smile and a wave.
“I’m fine.” She’d answer sweetly.
Even if she refused to believe his story of the fungal clones, he wanted to reconnect with her…To get as close as they’d once been. After all, as siblings they’d always been able to share secrets that their parents would never understand, and though the pair had largely grown out of that phase, he missed that bond.
He tried apologizing to her late one night. As the pair ascended the stairs toward their respective rooms, he whispered, “I’m sorry for what I did.”
“What do you mean?” She asked.
“Telling clone-mom that you smoked? Telling you about the clones and all that? You seemed pretty upset.”
“I’m fine now.” She beamed.
“But-”
“Don’t worry about me.” Lori said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “I’m okay.”
He didn’t know how to respond.
The next day he watched her, and though she seemed bubbly, there was something about her attitude that struck him as being seriously off.
…
“Malcolm dear?” His mom asked, knocking on the door.
He looked up from his computer and blinked away the light that had been burnt onto his retinas.
“Huh?”
“Mail for you.”
She handed him a letter, but it didn’t have a return address. Curious, he opened the envelope and began reading.
My dear brother Malcolm, you more than anyone else in this world know the struggles I endure. Until recently you were the only one keeping this secret. I thought I could confide in you, but it seems the same stress that has poisoned my life has caused you to snap.
I do not blame you, nor do I blame our parents. Mom is simply responding to how she was raised, and dad, in remaining ever-passive to her authoritarian methods of raising us, believes he is doing the right thing in keeping the peace. I now realize that we are no more than our environment expressed through our genes. I had always suspected this, but the last time I visited, I came to realize the truth in this hypothesis.
It’s too late for me. There’s no way I can live a happy life, but for you there’s still time.
Please, honor my last wish and get some help. Go to therapy and find a way to confront reality head-on. Find peace, then learn to be happy. You can do it! You’re much stronger than I ever was.
Don’t cry for me. I know you will, but please know that, no matter if there’s an afterlife or not, I am happier this way. I had an unbearable grief on my shoulders, and I have permanently removed it from the world.
Love you forever and beyond,
Lori
Malcolm stared at the letter feeling total confusion. If he didn’t know any better he would have thought it a suicide note…But his sister was there, in the other room. It didn’t seem like a joke…Was it some sort of warning?
He decided to ask his sister outright.
He walked downstairs and found her laughing candidly with their clone-mom.
“Lori? Can I talk to you? In private?”
“Private?” She asked with a frown. “Why? Anything you want to discuss can be discussed in front of our mom here. Right mom?”
She nodded.
Malcolm briefly inspected the nodding clone. She was a clone, after all, so speaking in front of her wouldn’t create any emotional baggage.
He showed Lori the strange letter. She took it and read.
“Ah yes, I was wondering when this would get to you.” She said.
“What is it?” He asked.
Lori remained silent for a moment. “It’s my suicide note.”
Malcolm felt his veins grow cold. “Lori, I…I never knew you felt…Oh god.”
“I know this must be distressing.” She said, standing and hugging him tight in her arms. “But it’ll be okay!”
He hugged her back. He could feel tears forming in his eyes. “I’m just glad you didn’t go through with it.”
As soon as he said these words, the atmosphere in the room changed perceptibly. He felt his sister falter and could even see his clone-mom acting a bit odd.
Lori pulled away.
“But Malcolm…I did go through with it.” Her words were just above a whisper.
“Wha’?” Malcolm felt his mouth go dry.
Lori gave a weak smile and showed him her wrist. There were no scars on it, but she pantomimed holding a razor and cutting a long, deep line up her arm. “I guess I believe you about the clones now.” She grinned.
“But…But…” He stuttered.
“I was on the verge of death…Or maybe I had actually died. I’m not sure. I remember hearing my roommate’s voice, then feeling someone carrying me. The next thing I remember was wind, like we were outside…It was warm and windy…Then they dropped me and I fell…I fell and I fell, and never hit the ground…Then I felt better. I emerged from the pit, and things have never been better.”
Malcolm could only shake his head in horror. “I can’t…No!”
“What’s wrong?” Their clone-mom asked. “Isn’t this better? Your sister is finally happy. Don’t you want her to be happy?”
He saw Lori approach slowly, ready to embrace him in another hug. He couldn’t handle it. He turned and bolted upstairs to his room, where he locked the door and threw himself onto his bed.
No one followed him. He didn’t hear any knocking and suspected the clones knew he wouldn’t have let them inside anyway. They left him to stew and fester in his thoughts…So many thoughts and feelings flooding him that his body, being extremely merciful, finally allowed him to fall asleep.
…
“Malcolm?” Lori’s voice asked softly, followed by a light rapping at the door. “Are you awake?”
Malcolm’s eyes fluttered open. He had briefly forgotten about his sister’s suicide, but within seconds the pained conversation came flooding back to him.
He didn’t respond. He tried to go back to sleep, but his door opened and his sister entered. She stood above him for a moment, then sat at the foot of his bed.
No, not his sister…A clone of his sister.
“I know this must be very hard for you to hear.” She began. “I didn’t want you finding out this way, but before I could do anything she’d already sent the letter.”
“She’s dead, and you replaced her.”
The clone of his sister gave a passive shrug. “She’s not entirely dead. She-”
“Yeah, I get it, she lives on in you!” Malcolm snapped. “But you’re just a fucking clone! You’re not her and you never could be!” He wanted to keep screaming, but he was at a loss for words. How do you blame a clone for the original’s suicide? Despite his fury, she was blameless. The whole situation felt so surreal.
“Agree to disagree.” Clone-Lori said. “But no, your sister, your original sister, is still very much alive.”
Malcolm blinked in confusion. “But the note-”
“-Was written before she attempted to take her life.” The clone shook her head. “She failed. Before she could complete the task her roommate, who’d already been cloned, found her and quickly rushed her to one of our chamber entrances. It was clear that she’d lost too much blood to survive for long, and with little time left, we did the only thing that could save her.”
“Saved her…By trapping her beneath the Earth and replacing her.”
“The alternative would have been to let her die. Would you have preferred that option?”
Malcolm didn’t respond.
“In a way, this was partially our fault.” Clone-Lori said, staring down at the floor. “After we replaced her roommate and several of her classmates, she was no longer the smartest person in school. She began to fall behind, not because of her own failures but because we were beginning to surpass her, and that caused her to snap. Her identity had always been built upon being the best, yet she just couldn’t compete. The last time she came to visit, she wanted to try and clear her head, but when she saw your mom acting so much kinder and heard you babbling about clones and fungal pits, she just-” And clone-Lori snapped her fingers.
Malcolm shook his head. “It was me.” He said. “I did this to you…To her…” He corrected.
“No.” Clone-Lori said. Her voice was very firm and commanding. “It’s not your fault. Do not think that for a second! No one wanted this. We didn’t want this, and I know for a fact you didn’t either. The truth is that different people respond to stress differently, and for some this response can be a bit…Permanent…”
“She thought she was falling behind.” Malcolm mumbled. He felt like he was in a daze and was trying his best to piece together information as best he could.
“Mycelloids want peace. We do not intend for humans to hurt themselves, but given such a large population, small problems will invariably occur.”
“Small problems…” Malcolm trailed off. “My sister tried to kill herself. You call that a small problem?” He was surprised at how level his voice was. There was certainly a slight waver in it, but he wasn’t shouting.
“No…Of course not.”
Malcolm stared up at the ceiling and threw his hands up in the air. “How could this happen!?”
“It’s because, to date, she’s never encountered a situation where she’s been surrounded by others smarter than her. She built her ego upon being the smartest. She maintained this reputation all through grade school and deep into college, but-”
“-But you turned up, and you destroyed her world.” A small tear began forming in the corner of Malcolm’s eye.
Clone-Lori sighed. “Even if we hadn’t appeared, would she have been the smartest in grad school? What about the workforce, where she’d certainly take a demanding job and be pitted against the best and brightest? Eventually, she’d continue putting herself in higher and higher stress situations, leveraging her superior intellect against everyone else, until she faltered and failed.”
Malcolm said nothing for a while, and the clone let him stew in silence.
“So you’ve got her in one of those pits and have just decided to replace her?” He asked at last.
“We did what we could to save her life, and I’m standing in for her. Once she’s healed she’s free to return to the surface any time he wishes.”
“But she won’t.” Malcolm said, shaking his head. “No one ever does. You get them addicted to…To whatever the hell’s going on down there, and because of that you know you can replace anyone you want.”
Clone-Lori shrugged. “At the end of the day, it’s still her choice. It cannot be helped that so many choose the most logical path.”
…
“Hello?” Jericho said, slurring his greeting after picking up the phone.
“Are you drunk?” Malcolm asked.
“Sowha’ ‘f I am?”
Malcolm frowned. “I need you sober.”
“Wha’ for? You know we can’t do anythinggg to beat them.”
“We haven’t even tried anything yet!” Malcolm argued. “All we’ve done is dumped some bleach into one of their pits. Come on, I could really use your help.”
“What’re you wantinggg to try?”
Malcolm closed his eyes. “I wanna go down there myself…I want you to go with me.”
This seemed to sober Jericho up at once. “But…What if we go down there and fail?”
“If we fail we’ll get sucked down into the pit and get replaced by superior clones of ourselves. We’ll spend our lives in total bliss and the rest of the world benefits from those better versions of us. There’s not really a downside, so we may as well try something, yeah?”
There was silence, then “I guess-so.”
“Great. I’ll be over there tomorrow. Don’t drink anything else in the meantime.” Before Jericho could argue Malcolm hung up.
After mentally acknowledging the fact that he was indeed going to try and fight the clones, he began making preparations for what would surely be a risky endeavor.
He grabbed two bottles of bleach from the laundry-room, as well as a box of rat poison.
He began assembling a pile of water-resistant clothes: a rain poncho, boots, rubber gloves, and even a welding mask.
He found a spray bottle and a water gun.
He packed water and snacks in case the trek lasted longer than he planned.
He even grabbed a first aid kit, some rope, a lighter, and a long kitchen knife.
When all was said and done a pile of eclectic goods littered the floor. He did his best to organize them before stuffing everything into an old backpack.
He hefted the pack onto his shoulders.
He found it surprisingly cumbersome.
“You’ve grown weak.” He told himself. The total weight on his back was far less than the books he’d typically carry around school. Despite this, he spent a few hours training himself to handle the burden.
It was hard, but the work was worth it. At last he had a goal. He would go into the depths of the Earth and save his sister. Even if the goal was small and unrealistic, it gave him something to strive for.
“Lori.” He said to himself. “Lori…I’ll save you…”
…
“Lori?” Malcolm asked his clone-sister sometime later.
She was busy doing dishes, but upon hearing his voice she turned away from the sink and smiled.
“Ah, what is it baby brother?”
“I just thought I should let you know that Jericho and I are…We’re going to go and rescue my real sister.”
“Your mammal-sister, you mean. I’m your real sister.” But before Malcolm could interject she gave a small laugh. “No, of course. I know what you mean.”
“I just thought I’d let you know…And…Well…” He fumbled with his fingers a bit, trying to quickly come up with the best way to ask.
“And you want to know the best way to do it.” She finished. “You’re scared and want my help.”
“Please?” He asked. “You and the other clones have been so helpful for everything else-”
“-And you expect Mycelloid compassion to extend to the point that it actually harms us.” She interrupted.
He frowned. “You don’t need to give me anything specific. Just any tips or-”
She laughed again. “No no, it’s alright. I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
“Would you give us a ride to her college?” He asked. “I mean, me and Jericho don’t have our driver’s licenses yet, and it’s pretty far.”
“Silly brother, don’t you know all Mycelloid colonies are attached to one another? The whole thing is a sprawling subterranean network of caves and pits. You could go down any one hole and simply walk where you need to go.”
“Even still, that’s a long walk.” Malcolm said. “It’d take us days.”
“Not true! You see, the human version of Lori was born in this neighborhood, which means her brainwaves and gut-biome are very similar to those who live here. Because of this, it was far more convenient for us to move her physical body closer, so the colony uses less energy feeding her and replicating her.”
“So people that eat and think the same are kept together?” This was news to Malcolm.
Clone-Lori shrugged. “It’s not quite that simple, and even with our shared intelligence and heightened minds, I doubt any single Mycelloid is capable of understanding the colony’s full will. All I know is that it’s much easier and takes less energy to organize people based on certain features, and those are largely dependent on geographical origin.”
“So what, the nearest point of entry would be that pit in the field?”
Clone-Lori gave him an amused look. “Not anymore. Now the closest one is behind the shed in our own backyard.”
Malcolm’s eyes darted to the window behind his clone-sister, but he only saw the side yard’s fence.
“There’s one here?” Again, the security he once felt vanished, leaving him with thoughts filled with fear and uncertainty.
“Why not? The tunnels are getting larger, and they need oxygen too.”
Malcolm shivered, but did his best to hide his misgivings. “And if we jump down the hole, we’ll be safe, right? I mean, we won’t get captured or break our legs on impact or anything like that?”
“Not at all. You’ll be as free as you want for as long as you want.”
“And once down there, where would we go?”
“Just follow the white spiders, and they’ll take you to the right place.”
“Spiders?” Malcolm asked.
Clone-Lori’s smile grew wider, revealing a set of inhumanly vibrant teeth. “Sure. The colony’s huge, and there are many organisms that coexist with us. We’ve learned to help one another, and unlike surface creatures that have evolved to take advantage of the others’ weaknesses, many subterranean organisms have adapted to take advantage of one anothers’ strengths.” She turned back toward the dishes. “But you’ll see that for yourself.”
“What kind of organisms?” Malcolm asked. “Are they dangerous?”
Clone-Lori waved a hand over her head. “Any creature carries that potentiality. A single bee sting is fatal to certain people, but I believe there’s nothing down there that you can’t handle. You’ll be fine.”
Malcolm wanted to press her for more details, but he knew that his time was limited…If he spent too long contemplating what he was about to do, he’d either get cold feet or, much more likely, lose the motivation altogether.
Instead, he rushed outside. The Sun was setting and created long shadows and a dramatic contrast between light and dark. He made his way to the shed, moved behind it, and within its shade was a small, deep abyss.
Deep.
Dark.
A void lined in a pink flesh.
He held his hand over it. It felt warm and wet, and the air moved like it was breathing.
Something primal activated in his mind, and he got the sense he was staring down a predator so monstrously large and fearsome he could scarcely comprehend it.
“You don’t have to do this, you know.” He heard a voice saying from behind him…It was his clone-mom. “You can come inside, and I can fix you a pineapple upside down cake. I know you love them.”
“I can’t.” Malcolm said, eyes still transfixed on the pit. The fungal caves had taken on a new, entirely fearful dimension now that he knew he’d be entering them. By simply making up his mind, they’d become all-too real.
“She’s happy, you know.” His clone-mom said, drawing close and placing her hands delicately on his shoulder. “In fact, she’s currently happier than she’s ever been in her entire life. No pressure. No feelings of failure.”
“But she’s not living.” Malcolm said, pulling away. “Not really. She’s just resting there…Trapped…Doing nothing but consuming resources. She should be outside doing things, like going to college and getting a job and…” He trailed off.
“And having goals?” His clone-mom smiled warmly.
“Y-yeah.”
“But you don’t have any of those either.” She reminded him.
He turned back to the pit. “Well now I have at least one, and when I rescue the real Lori, I promise I’m going to find more. Many more. I’m not going to become like the others. I’m going to change.”
His clone-mom shook her head while giving a few tuts. “Changing oneself takes an awful lot of will power and biological energy. Why go through needless hardships?”
“Because it’ll make me a better person.” He shot back automatically.
His clone-mom smiled. “Then why not cut out the middleman and simply join us? No struggle for you, and the version of you that emerges will be better in every conceivable metric. Everyone wins!”
He wasn’t going to let her logic sway him.
The pit looked terribly small. What if he got stuck down there? What if the clones had been lying and it ate him? What if…
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He felt his stomach beginning to churn and did his best to mentally will away the worry.
“I’ve got to at least try.” Malcolm said out loud.
“The end result will be the same, in the end.” His clone-mom said.
“But at least this way I’ll know I tried.”
…
The next day Malcolm’s alarm went off at nine AM. He rolled over, shut it off, and went back to sleep.
…
It was a little after two when Malcolm finally woke up. He rolled over, groaned, and after checking the time he sent Jericho a text.
Dude you coming?
It took another hour and a half before he received a response.
Sorry dude, was busy. What’s up?
Malcolm sighed.
You were up all night drinking, weren’t you?
No, why?
We were supposed to go down into the tunnels this morning.
That was today? Shit. I’ll have my brother drive me over.
Part of Malcolm hoped that Jericho wouldn’t show. It would give him a good excuse not to venture into the claustrophobic, fleshy tunnels…
Of course he could always go down there alone, but it was already such a titanic undertaking that he doubted even two of them could accomplish it. Not to mention the fungal tunnels might harbor dangers the clones failed to disclose, and it would be stupid to venture into such a strange environment by himself.
He needed a partner, and if Jericho flaked he’d be forced to wait! He could relax and eat and drink and sleep and it would be completely outside his control!
But within the hour a well-worn yet clean vehicle pulled into the driveway. Malcolm watched Jericho climb out of the passenger seat and set up the driveway hauling a pair of bags up the driveway. Malcolm felt a surge of adrenaline. His stomach began twisting into knots. He felt sick. He heard his mom’s muffled voice, then heard footsteps on the stairs.
Malcolm’s heart beat wildly in his chest. He tried catching his breath but couldn’t seem to fill his lungs with the appropriate amount of air.
The door opened and revealed a serious-looking Jericho.
“You ready?” He asked.
“Just gotta get suited up.” Malcolm replied, trying to calm his nerves.
Jericho nodded.
The pair silently slipped water-resistant gear over their normal clothes, donned backpacks laden with survival gear, and with one last affirmative nod, traveled downstairs, to the backyard, to the precipice of the pit.
“It looks a lot smaller than the others.” Malcolm said.
Jericho shook his head. “It’s about as big as the one in my brother’s closet.”
“Yeah, well I wasn’t planning on jumping down that one.”
He could barely speak over the rhythm of his heart. Wordlessly, he pulled a spray-bottle of bleach from his belt and gave himself a generous spritzing. Jericho followed suit.
“Ladies first?” Jericho prompted, beckoning to the underworld.
Malcolm couldn’t even bring himself to think of a witty retort. If he tried thinking, the horrors of what he was about to do would overwhelm him and send him fleeing back up into his room.
He approached the lip of the pit, then looked toward the sky. He took a few deep, fast breaths, trying to clear his mind and keep from vomiting.
…And then he leapt. The sky disappeared into an ever-shrinking hole above him. He felt the Earth closing in and squeezing him from every direction. He screamed, but no sound came out.
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